Salva Nos
by Lola Ravenhill
Summary: It isn't about how he always saves her, or how she always saves him. It's about how they save each other. A 10th Doctor and Rose story.
1. Salva nos, stella maris

I couldn't resist it. The siren's call was far too strong, and so kidfic was produced. I've had such a fun time writing it though, spending time researching the places in the story, remembering my very rusty foreign language skills, and developing the child into an actual character, and I hope that everyone enjoys reading.

As always, my heartfelt thanks to paiger1218 for the support, time and effort, and the occasional beating me 'round the head when I contradict myself on paper. Thanks love!

* * *

Salva Nos

_Salva nos, stella maris  
Et regina celorum_

It was the smell that followed him back, the sharp, acrid tang of fire and ash, carrying one of the last Time Lords up to the heavens. The Doctor walked away, the scent filling his nose. He shut his eyes briefly, a moment to mourn the life long enemy he wanted to save at the end.

Even now, the Doctor imagined he could feel the Master's presence in his head, like a phantom limb, taking away the absence in his mind for just a little while. It was a small feeling, reaching out over the distances of space and echoing in his brain like the tiniest of heartbeats, screaming with life. It faded quickly, as if it were a wave going back out to sea, and left him alone in his head once more.

It never occurred to the Doctor that the feeling wasn't just a phantom one, but a very real and very tiny presence that was going to need his help quite soon.

* * *

_Que pura deum paris  
Salva nos, stella maris  
Et per rubum signaris  
Nesciens viri thorum_

For late fall anywhere in the world, the weather was beautiful. Being in Florence, Italy just made it all that much more spectacular. The sunlight gleamed and reflected off of the maze of sandy brick buildings and turned the Arno into a river of golden glitter. On one of the small side roads around La Chiesa da Santa Maria Novella, a small boy sat on a comfy lounge chair on a balcony, reading his book and enjoying the afternoon sunshine.

"Carlo, viene qui!" a voice from below called out, making the little boy grin and look up from his book. He peered through the bars of the balcony down into the street and saw the crowd of young boys down there, one of whom was tossing a football in his hands.

Charlie got up, ready as anything to join the game, when a sudden wave of dizziness overwhelmed his small frame. He slumped back onto the lounge chair, sighing heavily and ending with a small cough. He hated being sick. It felt like he was sick every day of his short, five-year-old life. He'd have much rather been down there with the rest of the boys playing football, but the way he felt right how he wouldn't even be able to make it to the front door of the flat without having to stop for a break.

"Non posso, mi dispiace!" he called back. He'd picked up the native language fantastically fast when they arrived in Italy, and had spent a good few months being translator for his mum which was rather fun, because Mum knew _everything_ and this was finally something she didn't know that he could help with. It made him smile, and made his Mum ruffle his dark brown hair until it became even messier than it normally was. "Guarderò di qui!"

One of the boys shouted out something about him being the referee to their game, which Charlie wholeheartedly agreed to. He might not be able to play, but his eyes were quick and wouldn't miss a thing.

It was when Charlie was standing on the lounger, leaning halfway out over the balcony pointing at one of the boys and calling him a cheat rather loudly that his mum came out there, carrying a tray with their dinner on it. He didn't notice this until he felt Mum lean over the balcony next to him, her steadying hand falling on his back. "What's going on?" she asked him in English, a distinct contrast to the Italian echoing up from below.

"Renzo's not really that bright," Charlie sighed. "He tried that same move last week and it didn't work."

Mum peered down at the scene below that was fast becoming the sort of brawl that boys get into on a regular basis. One of the older boys though caught sight of Mum standing there and decided to throw a wink and a grin her way, followed up by an air kiss. Mum just arched an eyebrow at that. "Cheeky," she commented. She patted Charlie on the back. "Come on, my bright boy needs his dinner."

They set up on the lounge chair, the dinner tray between them, and set out to eat. Mum was considerate enough to pull a small portable heater through the balcony doors so they could stay outside as long as possible, and he knew it was all because of him. He'd live outside if he could, really. He hated leaving that big sky behind just to hole up in a tiny room with only one window.

* * *

The sun had fallen, leaving behind a sky slightly clouded with smog and streetlamps, but a few stubborn stars managed to poke their way through so Charlie's eyes could hunt them down. He sat between Mum's legs on the lounge, and she had a thick blanket wrapped around both of them. He could stay warm and stargaze all at the same time; it was brilliant.

"So what were you reading today?" Mum asked him, pulling him back down to earth for a little while. Charlie grabbed the book from the balcony floor and handed it to her. "_The Journey Through Wales_, by Gerald of Wales," she read from the cover.

"It's interesting," Charlie said, twisting around to look at her. "Can we go to Wales someday?" he asked her.

Mum flipped through the book, a frown growing on her face. "I don't even think I read stuff this difficult back when I was in school." She looked up at Charlie, a bit incredulous. "And my five year old son is tearing through it in two days." She laughed, and ruffled his hair.

"Can we go there?" he repeated, ducking out from under her hand.

"Go where?"

"Wales," he insisted. Sometimes Mum could be rather silly-she had a tendency to wander off a bit.

She looked down at him, her blonde hair shining gold in the streetlamps. "Hmm, someday, I think, we'll get there. Your dad and I went there a couple of times," she said.

"Really?" Charlie asked, turning back around and settling into the circle of her arms, hoping to hear a story.

"Yep. Now those were an interesting few trips."

Charlie loved hearing stories about his dad. Mum didn't talk about him often, as they were separated before he was even born. He knew, though, that his dad was the reason that he was so different from the other boys, why his brain worked in a different way than theirs, why he couldn't wait to get out there and see the stars up close…why he maybe wasn't as human as everyone else on the planet.

He wasn't supposed to know that last bit, but he'd found out a little over a month ago when an old friend of Mum's had visited them. After learning it though, things just made so much more sense.

_Charlie liked Dr. Jones. She had a sweet smile that shone white against her dark skin and made him feel comfortable, even when she was sticking a thermometer in his ear or pressing a cold stethoscope against his bare back. "You're doing great," she reassured him with her sweet smile as he took a few deep breaths. They could have been deeper, but he was getting dizzy again and couldn't get as much air in as before._

_Dr. Jones made some more notes on her pad, and nodded to herself. "All right Charlie, I think we're just about done here." She tugged his shirt back down and tucked him back into his bed. "Now you rest up, you hear me? Your mum should be here in a few minutes."_

_"Okay," Charlie nodded at her, waving as she left the room. She waved back, and closed the door to the bedroom until only a crack was left that peeked onto the rest of the apartment._

_He tried to sit there and be patient, but he was too awake to fall asleep now. Maybe he could sneak out onto the balcony though, and watch the stars until he was a little more tired. Charlie hauled himself out of bed and over to the door. He stopped to peer through the crack, frowning when he spotted Mum sitting at the kitchen table, staring deep into the tumbler of wine she was clutching. He was just about to turn around to peer out the window instead, when the other visitor came into view, making Charlie pause, just for a moment he figured._

_"Martha's gone off to explore," he said, pulling out another chair at the table. "She's never seen Italy before, figures she could use this business trip to do a little exploring too."_

_"Thank you, Mickey," Mum said, pushing some hair back behind her ears. "I knew you could find someone trustworthy to take a look at Charlie."_

_"Well, she's shown herself to be a good asset to Torchwood, and knows how to keep a secret as well." Mickey shrugged and helped himself to the wine. "Something you apparently know how to do damn well too."_

_"I-I'm sorry," she stuttered out, seeming to be at a loss for words for once._

_"No you're not. Gotta say, Rose, you pulling a runner makes a hell of a lot more sense now. One day we're standing on a beach in Norway watching you rip your heart out as you say good-bye to him, and then by that time next week you've practically disappeared off the face of the planet. Six years pass, and only then do I get a message from you asking me to come to Italy, and if I could bring a doctor who specialized in alien biology along it'd be great, because your son was sick." Charlie wasn't the best at spotting it, but even he could hear the sarcasm in Mickey's voice, even if he didn't quite understand why he was using it._

_Mum smacked her hand down on the table, making Charlie move back a quick step. "You didn't see what I did, Mickey. I found this out right before Bad Wolf Bay-there was a group of people there in Torchwood who wanted to study_ me _because I'd been into space. They wanted to lock me up and perform whatever tests they could on me to see how interstellar travel affected the human body. If they found out I was pregnant-pregnant with a child who's only half human...no. They were not going do that to my baby. So I'm sorry for all the grief I've caused for you and Mum, but I had to go."_

_For a brief moment, Charlie thought he should have been more surprised about the half-human thing. But for some strange reason, it seemed like it made the world just make that much more sense to him. He was different, yes-now he had a reason why._

_"So, Charlie's father is-is...?" Mickey trailed off, and Mum seemed to know exactly where to pick up the sentence."_

_"It wouldn't be anyone else," she continued with a small laugh. "Look at him! He's like a mini-Doctor, right down to those manky old trainers I have to practically pry off of his feet with a crowbar before he goes to bed."_

_"Does he know about Charlie then?"_

_Mum's face seemed to collapse in on itself at that. "Tried to tell him, on the beach. Ended up being a coward and said that Mum was three months gone instead of me. So I never told him." She looked up at Mickey again, with that strong look in her eyes that made Charlie feel protected and others extremely nervous. "But sometimes I'll dream, and I'll see things, and all I can think is _'oh, he knows.'_"_

_Mickey looked like he didn't quite believe Mum, but obviously wasn't going to say anything. He seemed to know also just what Mum was like when she was mad. "I'm not going to argue," he sighed. "Even though you probably made a pretty boneheaded decision by not telling him." _

_"Frankly, it's too late to worry about it. Whether I made the right decision or not, the chance to change it is long past." She sniffled once, then looked back up at Mickey. "Did Martha find anything out about Charlie when she took a look at him?" she asked._

_He reached over and grabbed a small notepad. Charlie recognized it as the same one Dr. Jones had been writing on back in his bedroom. "Nothing aside from stuff you probably already know-has trouble breathing sometimes, but there's no apparent biological cause for it. Gets a bit dizzy sometimes, she spotted his blood pressure dropping at those moments but it didn't fall into the danger zone. And his body temperature is hovering somewhere around 28 degrees centigrade."_

_"Nothing surprising then," Mum sighed, resting her chin on her knuckles. "Sometimes I wish that Charlie was normal, you know, so that he could go outside and play like a regular kid, so he wouldn't be picked on in school for being smarter than everyone else, so he wouldn't always be so sick. But it's only a brief thought, 'cause then I look at him and I wouldn't change a thing."_

_Mickey's brow wrinkled. "You think him being sick has something to do with his father? Whether the Doctor knew about Charlie or not, I really don't think he'd want him to be sick all the time."_

_"No, it's not like that," she shook her head. "I have a theory. Might not be true, but it's the best I've got right now. You remember the very first time we got to this universe, how badly it fried the TARDIS? The Doctor couldn't make it work without the connection back to our old universe, the one where the Time Lords were from."_

_"Yeah."_

_"What if Charlie needs that connection back to our universe also? What if that's why he's so sick always, because in this universe where it appears that the Time Lords never existed in the first place—there's not even any legends about them here, and believe me, I've looked—anything connected to them can't work properly, and that includes their people." Mum's eyes practically glowed in the dim lighting, her speech impassioned._

_"But that didn't happen to the Doctor though. He was his normal hyperactive self the whole time we were here," Mickey said._

_"We were only here a matter of days then, maybe it wasn't long enough to affect him. Even if he did maybe he didn't even recognize the feeling, he hadn't traveled to parallel universes since before the Time War. He's also had nine hundred years plus of experience. Charlie's five. Not exactly a lot of time there to build up an immunity. And he just keeps getting sicker." Mum slouched back in her chair. "I don't know though. Looking for answers to explain the unexplainable, I guess. But I want to give him the best life possible. I want him to have at least a good human life here, considering that getting back to the other universe is impossible. He might not be able to have the life-span of a true Time Lord, but he'll have a life." Charlie could tell his mum was almost about to cry. She didn't cry often, just late at night when no one else was around and she didn't know he was awake. He wished he could have gone out there to give her a hug, but something inside him was telling him not to disturb the story._

_"Well, Martha will be back here tomorrow, she'll run some more detailed tests on Charlie and maybe we'll get a better idea of how to treat him over the long term." Mickey paused briefly. "Rose, why'd you decide to name him Charles anyway?" he asked. "I don't recall any relatives of yours being named that."_

_To the little boy's surprise, his mum giggled. "Our second 'date'," she said. "We were supposed to go to Naples, ended up in Cardiff instead, and met Charles Dickens. I'd never seen him act like such a giddy fanboy before! So I decided to name Charlie after something he loved. I thought it was fitting."_

_Charlie leaned against the door, smiling himself. He always liked to hear things about his dad, and this was a little tidbit he hadn't heard before. Unfortunately he forgot that slightly open doors didn't stay in place when leaned upon. The door swung outward, depositing Charlie in an ungraceful heap on the floor._

_Mum and Mickey jumped up as if ready for a fight, but calmed down quickly when they saw that it was just him. Mum shot a quick look at Mickey, who nodded and grabbed up his jacket. "I'll see you tomorrow, Rose. Charlie, have a good night," he said, making a quick exit and shutting the apartment door behind him. Mum went over to him and sat down on the floor, helping him up to a sitting position._

_"You heard all of that, didn't you?" Mum said, running her hands down his arms._

_Charlie nodded. "So my dad's an alien?" he asked, blurting out the first thing that came to mind._

_"Yes, he is."_

_"And you? Are you an alien too?"_

_Mum laughed at that, taking Charlie's hands in hers and squeezing. "No, I'm just your ordinary average human."_

_"So I'm half-alien?" It really did explain so much about him._

_"Well, yeah. Half Time Lord, to be precise."_

_"Time Lord?" he asked. "Is that like a Martian or something?"_

_"Not hardly!" Mum laughed again. "That's a story for another day though, after you've had some sleep and I'm more prepared for all of your questions."_

_Charlie grinned back at her, but felt the smile begin to slide off his face. "But he doesn't know about me."_

_Mum's smile faded then as well, and she moved to cup his face between her hands, her thumbs tapping at a few of his freckles. "No, he doesn't. I found out I was going to have you after we were separated, and I blew the one chance I would have had to tell him."_

_He bit his lip, not wanting to ask the next question. It slipped out anyway though, compelled by some inexplicable force. "D'you think he would have liked me?"_

_"Oh yeah," Mum said, that smile of hers spreading across her face again, stroking his cheeks with her thumbs. "He would have loved you, our bright and brave boy with the map of the stars in his freckles." She stood up, taking Charlie's slight weight with her and scooping him into her arms. "Come on, it's time for you to sleep," she said, carrying him back into the bedroom._

_That night Charlie dreamt of stars and time travel, with a faceless and invisible figure at his back, but a figure that always protected him and made him feel loved._

* * *

After that incident Charlie started carrying around a backpack with him. It was an ordinary backpack, with no 'bigger-on-the-inside' qualities or anything like that, and it wasn't carrying all that much anyway. There was a photo album, a couple of his favorite books, an old football jersey (Rangers, all the way), a model of a spaceship from some sci-fi show, and an old house key on a chain that Mum had given him, stating that it was a good luck charm. He never let the backpack out of his sight, even slept with it under his pillow. He wanted to be prepared for anything.

* * *

_To be continued in part two... _


	2. Imperatrix celorum

Part two of the story. Thanks to everyone who left feedback on the first chapter! This bit's a little shorter than the first, however this is the best place within the story to take a chapter break. All pertinent notes can be found in part one. I hope all you readers enjoy this chapter as well!

For those who are interested, translation for the Latin phrases can be found in my profile. They'll be updated with each chapter posted.

* * *

_O virgo specialis  
Salva nos, stella maris  
Sis nobis salutaris  
Imperatrix celorum_

Charlie pulled at the ends of his hair, which were in even more of a jagged state than normal. Stupid hair. Caused all sorts of problems. He glanced up at Mum, who hadn't said a word to him since they had walked out of the school. He certainly wasn't upset that he'd left class early, but he didn't like to see him Mum so mad at him. It made him feel all bad inside. However, it wasn't his fault that they left him alone with no more work to do and a pair of safety scissors. At least only his hair had suffered before they caught him.

Mum's hand dropped down on his shoulder, tugging at his backpack strap and making him look up at her. She still wasn't smiling, but had seemed to calm down a little bit. "Charlie?" She tilted her head towards the bakery's display cases, racks upon racks of delicate little creations, tarts filled with little candied fruits, marzipan made to look like every conceivable food available, tiny cakes frosted with cream with shaved chocolate on the tops, and so much more that made Charlie's eyes light up in anticipation of the oncoming sugar rush. "Che cosa tu desideri?" she asked.

Charlie looked over at the cases. He didn't think he was going to get anything whilst at the bakery that they stopped by at least twice a week for snacks, but Mum nodded down encouragingly at him. "Io vorrei…questo…questo…e questo," he said, pointing at a selection of items that caught his eyes.

Mum paid for their treats and they walked off, moving down the crowded city street. Charlie picked a mille-feuille that was layered with almond crème and raspberry jam out of the bag and began to munch on it, getting crumbs all over himself.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you back at the school," Mum said, speaking loud enough for her voice to carry over the traffic on Borgo Ognissanti. Charlie looked up at her again, nearly tripping on a poorly-set cobblestone on the sidewalk. "I just didn't expect to get a call this morning saying my son was caught sitting in his cubby-hole cutting his own hair." She glanced down at him, a glint in her eye and a quirky smile on her lips. "At least it was your own hair and not someone else's."

"I was bored," Charlie shrugged, shoving more pastry into his mouth. "The teacher didn't want to give me any more work. And I didn't wanna cut out any more pictures of trees. I know what a tree looks like."

"You're just too smart for your own good," Mum said, though not in an insulting sort of way. "Same as your dad, really. Although, he did have 900 plus years of experience to back him up."

Charlie paused in his chewing and stared up at her, quite wary. "Dad's 900 years old?" he said, more than a bit skeptical. There was alien, yes, but that seemed to be pushing it.

"'S what he always said," Mum replied, pushing him back into movement. "And obviously he knows a lot more than I do about things like that."

The pastry was gone, leaving a lingering taste of raspberry jam on his lips. Charlie darted out from her grip and began to walk along the curb as if it were a balance beam, holding his arms out to the side. "Did he have tentacles?" he asked. "Am I gonna turn green when I'm 13?"

Now it was Mum's turn to stop dead on the sidewalk, almost crashing into a tourist rushing somewhere or the other. _"What?"_

"You said he was alien. Most aliens on the telly are all green and slimy." Charlie frowned. "I really don't wanna be slimy."

Mum rolled her eyes mightily and grabbed onto his shoulder, guiding him across the street when there was a break in the traffic. There was yet another piazza there, and they sat down on a bench placed strategically so as to admire the statue of a man wrestling a lion that was in the centre of it. "Okay," Mum said, sitting cross legged on the bench and turning to face Charlie. "Time Lord biology, 101." Charlie nodded and reached for his next pastry, a baby chocolate tart with whipped cream on top. "First question – if you see a Time Lord on the street, how could you tell?"

Charlie shrugged. "Look for the tentacles?"

Mum shook her head. "Nope. It's a trick question. You wouldn't be able to tell; they look exactly like us. Or maybe we look like them. I always got the impression that the Time Lords are ages older than humans are. The first time I saw the Doctor I didn't know that he wasn't human. It was only when I saw his ship—"

"The TARDIS," Charlie interjected with a nod. He'd heard about that ship before, that wonderful ship that could get into one's head and was far bigger on the inside than it appeared to be. It had originally started out as a made up bedtime story, and had only realized after he had found out the truth about his dad that it wasn't as imaginary a ship as previously believed.

"Yes, the TARDIS," Mum continued with a smile. "That was what made me realize he wasn't quite like the other people on Earth. The real differences are underneath the skin. His blood is different. It looks red, but if you saw it under a microscope…something about the shape of the cells, and the chemicals in it. It's all technical stuff that I have no idea about, but I know it's so different from mine." She pushed some blonde hair behind her ears, out of the way of the chilled December air that was whipping it around. "He was telepathic as well, could see into people's minds if he wanted to. What else…" She wrinkled her brow, deep in memories.

"Something that's going to make me turn green or purple when I'm a grownup?" Charlie grinned.

"_No._ Oh, I'm forgetting two of the most important things." She leaned in close, as if imparting a great secret. "He has two hearts," she whispered to him with a wide grin on her face.

"That's imposs—" Mum's look cut him off, reminding him that nothing was really impossible sometimes. Charlie prodded at his own chest, feeling for his own heart and finding it beating steadily on the left side of his chest. "I've only got one."

"Maybe it's because you're half human," Mum shrugged. "I'm not sure. But I know for a fact that he has two hearts. You could put your ear to his chest and listen, and there's one on the left side and one on the right. Sometimes, when I had trouble falling asleep, I'd lay down and put my head over his hearts…it was almost like a lullaby."

"Is there anything else that made him really really alien?"

Mum nodded, picking at her own blueberry tart. "There's one thing, a little trick that the Time Lords had as a way to sort of cheat death. It's called regeneration, where every cell in the dying body is replaced by a brand new one. I'm not sure how many times he's had to do it, but I get the feeling it's been a few by now. I saw him do it once, saw him explode into this golden light right in front of my eyes." She munched thoughtfully on a sugar glazed blueberry.

"He exploded? What happened?" By this point, Charlie was truly enraptured.

"He was saving the Earth from this horrible race called the Daleks. All they wanted to do was take over and destroy. But your dad was brilliant enough to stop them, but he got injured so badly in the process that he had to regenerate. He exploded…and he changed."

"How did he change?"

"When I say every cell is replaced it means every cell. By the time it was over he looked like a whole new man. When I started traveling with him he looked like he was a tall human man in his forties, with very short cropped dark hair. He hated his ears, thought they stuck out too much. It was a face full of character, with these intense blue eyes and a manic grin, and I just loved it. He had a thick northern accent, and always wore this beat up leather jacket with a jumper and dark jeans.

"Then, after he changed…the first thing I noticed was the hair." She laughed softly. "It looked like a brown thatch had burst out on his head. He's a bit vain about it. Speaking of vanity he decided to change his clothes too. After he regenerated he always wore a brown pinstriped suit and a long coat, topping it all off with a pair of trainers." Mum shot a pointed look down at his own beyond grimy sneakers, at which he just wiggled his toes. "He was a bit skinnier than the previous version, younger as well looks wise, by about ten years or so, and he had big brown eyes and the freckles to match. Same wild grin though." Mum finished her tart and cupped Charlie's face in her hands. "You know what? You look exactly like that too." She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Which is why I should not have been the least bit surprised to hear that you've been bored silly in class."

"I hate it there," Charlie said, reaching for his third treat in the bag, a very lifelike marzipan banana. For a sickly child he could pack a surprising amount of food away.

"I know you do. So what I think we're going to do is call them up tomorrow and tell them you're not going back."

Charlie nearly jumped and looked up at her, startled. It was like every child's wildest dream come true. Mum nodded. "Christmas is in a couple of weeks, and then you're going to be on vacation anyway. So what we'll do in that time is find a new school for you, something more suited to your abilities. Or maybe we'll just move again. We've been in Florence for a while, could be time for a change." Charlie just shrugged.

"I dunno…"

"Well, we've got time to think about it. You know, I've always fancied going to Barcelona." Charlie couldn't quite understand why she was grinning like a loon at him, but he trusted her (she was _Mum,_after all), shrugged again, and shoved more of his marzipan banana into his mouth.

* * *

To be continued in part three... 


	3. Tu mater expers paris

Another very short chapter, but this is definitely the best (and possibly one of the more cliffhanger-esque) place to end the chapter. Again, for anyone who's interested the translation for the Latin words can be found in my profile. Thanks to everyone who's left feedback so far, and I hope you enjoy this next installment!

* * *

_Tu mater expers paris  
Salva nos, stella maris  
Manna celeste paris  
Et panem angelorum_

In a fit of nationalism Mum took Charlie to a Lessons and Carols service on Christmas Eve. St. Mark's Church, the only Anglican one in Florence, did one every year and for some reason Mum decided they should go to church this Christmas. Charlie hadn't heard that much English spoken for a while, since he'd been pulled out of his English speaking school actually, and it was a nice change to hear things in his first language. There was also something purely magical about it, hearing the congregation there sing songs about little babies, apples and falling men, and angels who were there. He dozed off sometime in the midst of the sixth lesson, hearing the carol about a Dancing Day flow through his brain.

Mum roused him at the end, having moved past 'Hark the Herald Angels Sing' and into a final additional song that neither he nor Mum was familiar with. And if Mum hadn't woken him, the thumping, rhythmic drums that accompanied the final carol would have.

"That's really lovely," Mum whispered, not wanting to disrupt the final chorus as the drums built to a raging crescendo. "I wonder what it means."

"'Light to the blind, leader to the ignorant, solace of the angels. Save us, star of the sea and queen of heaven," Charlie murmured.

Mum glanced down at him. "Since when do you know Latin?"

Charlie just shrugged, attempting to look innocent…then held up the pamphlet every attendant was given at the beginning of the service. "Translation's in here." Mum just rolled her eyes, but there was a grin playing at the corner of her lips.

Finally the drums ended, the last echo fading off into the distance and leaving Charlie with a sudden and strange empty feeling. It was probably just tiredness though, with the clocks reading after ten p.m. "Did you like that?" Mum whispered to him as they moved down the pews to exit the church.

"It was really pretty," he sighed, clutching her hand as they walked through the church. "I love Christmas," he said.

"Me too. Once helped stop an alien invasion on Christmas day," Mum nodded, looking down at him with her tongue poking through her teeth. Charlie gave her a skeptical look, and her smile grew wider. "S'true. Picture it, there's me, attempting to negotiate with these really ugly blokes called the Sycorax and absolutely failing at it, when finally the Doctor, your dad, wakes up from his regeneration related coma sort of thing he was in and swoops in to save the day. Saved me too. He always did, really," she sighed, her thoughts somewhere off far in the distance.

"You miss him," Charlie said as they walked out into the night air, cool and crisp against their skin.

"Every day." She wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him in close and making him bury his face in her long winter coat. "But I've got you now," Mum said to him. Suddenly her pocket buzzed, and she fished her mobile out of it. "Hold on one sec," she said to him, "And don't wander off-stay right here on the steps. Martha, hi!" She spoke into the phone as she darted down the steps of the church onto the sidewalk where there were a few less people, turning around so she could keep him in sight.

As she chatted in brief, short sentences Charlie saw her face go from winter pale to practically ashen, growing more and more serious by the second. He moved a few steps closer, innate curiosity making him want to know just what she was saying. "How long do we have?" were the first words he could make out clearly, as she grabbed onto the strap to his backpack and pulled him even closer. "All right. Look, Martha, thank you for this, you and Mickey. I really appreciate the help….yes, same here. I'll try and get a message to you two somehow, that we're safe. Good-bye." She flipped the mobile shut, dropped it back into her pocket, and without warning hauled Charlie into her arms. She began to walk down the block at a hurried pace.

"What's going on?" Charlie asked, looking back down the street from over her shoulder. He felt Mum sigh under him as she weaved in and out of the crowd departing the church.

"There are some very bad people out there who have figured out where Mummy is," she said, dashing them across a narrow street – they were moving closer to the river, Charlie saw. "And if we don't leave as fast as possible they could hurt us very badly." Charlie just nodded and clung tighter to her. Save us, indeed, flitted briefly through the little boy's head.

* * *

In the background the Doctor could hear the loud chattering of people filled with merriment, music filled with drums, bells, and pipes, a fountain shooting up jets of water high into the air, and the voice of Donna commenting that if she had to be subjected to Christmas music, at least it was in Latin so that she couldn't understand it. But it didn't quite register in his brain. 

Standing in front of the loggia of the old St. Paul's Hospital, the Doctor ran the sonic screwdriver from end to end, hoping it'd pick something up. Eventually his arm dropped in frustration, the scans picking up absolutely nothing (except for something that could potentially be a tiara from the Cafrit Collective, but that was definitely _not _what he was looking for). His feelings couldn't have been that off, could they? That itch in his head that just wouldn't leave him alone led him here, to this place at this specific time. He'd even had to land the TARDIS three separate times to get them exactly where they should be.

He turned around, looking at the Renaissance façade of Santa Maria Novella with its it white, green, and pink marble designs, lit up by spotlights on this Christmas Eve, then moving down more to look at the expanse of grass in the piazza surrounded by more modern structures, and filled with people celebrating. Donna was sitting on a bench there, paging through an out of date tourist guide of Florence. In short, nothing out of the ordinary. Frustrated, he ran his hands through his hair, pulling none too gently at it. Maybe if he got a little closer he'd see something more, he thought, leaping up and moving inside the loggia itself as a joy-filled shout echoed behind him.

* * *

To be continued in part four... 


	4. Paris sanctum sanctorum

In which things finally come to a head. Thanks to everyone sticking around this long, and especially to those who've left feedback so far!

Same as before, Latin translations available in my profile. Enjoy! _  
_

* * *

_O parens expers maris  
Salva nos, stella maris  
Partu non violaris  
Paris sanctum sanctorum_

Charlie knew something was very wrong when he saw the lights on in the flat. It wasn't just the small colored pinpricks of the tree they had set up either, but every electric bulb was burning brightly. Mum just gripped him tighter and moved into the shadows. "Bugger," she muttered to herself. He tucked his head into her shoulder, feeling beyond tired at this point. They had to keep moving though, he knew that. They couldn't stop until they were safe.

"Can we go to the police?" he asked.

Mum shook her head. "Torchwood is beyond the police. They couldn't do anything. Maybe…" she trailed off and twisted around, craning her neck to look up the street. "The train station is barely a ten minute walk from here." To Charlie's surprise, she reached for a pocket on his backpack and withdrew a handful of Euros. She met his eyes. "For you, just incase," was all the explanation she offered. "However, there should be more than enough here to get us a train to Munchen. Then from there…oh, we'll just wing it." Charlie just nodded and leaned his head on her shoulder. Mum re-adjusted her hold on him and scurried down the street, keeping to the shadows.

As they moved, Charlie could see that they weren't taking the most direct route to the train station, using a long and winding route to go a mere few blocks. Being Christmas Eve as well meant they were able to blend into crowds as well, using the others as a mild form of cover. To the average eye, she could have been any young mother carrying her tired child home to await Christmas morning. No one really knew the truth about Rose Tyler though. The truth would be beyond their wildest imaginations.

Eventually their roundabout route led them to the Piazza of Santa Maria Novella, and they moved into the loggia across the square from the church, using the covered walkway to keep them shielded from the people wandering around the square celebrating or heading into the church to pray. Mum slid him down from her waist, steadying him as he landed with a small stumble. "Okay," she whispered somewhere over his head. "The train station is just beyond the church. We're almost there," she grinned.

But Charlie didn't hear her. He blinked rapidly a couple of times and rubbed at his eyes. He may have been a sickly, only half human child, but he'd never hallucinated before. At least, that was what it felt like to him. He could see the piazza with the people milling around on their way to whatever they were doing, but right over it, as if it were two transparent pieces of film with different designs printed on them were layered, was another scene. Same piazza, same church, but brighter lights, a fountain shooting off, more cars zipping past, and a riotous clash of music hitting his ears. "Can't you see it?" he murmured.

"See what?" Mum asked.

"There's…two sets of people there." He wasn't quite sure how to describe it-as smart as he was there were just some things he didn't have the experience to speak of. "Like, there's the people here on the ground, but the invisible ones right next to them."

"You mean like ghosts?"

"No! They're as real as we are, just…different." His ears pricked up and he stepped forward a slight bit, Mum's hands never leaving his shoulders. "And can you hear that? It's the same song as in the church, that last one, but different too! More whistles and drums. Something with strings too. It's all joy."

"Charlie, you're not making sense," Mum said, moving closer to him.

Before he could try to explain, the ground beneath their feet shook, sending them both tumbling to the marble floor of the loggia. Quickly, Mum wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled them back against the wall. "What the hell is going on?" she asked, not really expecting an answer.

Whatever it was, though, it didn't feel wrong, not to Charlie. He could feel something inside his head, something reaching out through the darkness looking for him, even though it wasn't anything harmful. A brief, so brief that he barely caught onto it, idea of the faceless man from his dream a couple of months back flew through his head. Without knowing why, he mentally threw himself after that idea and feeling, squeezing his eyes shut and holding onto Mum's arms with all of his power.

He almost screamed at the sudden coldness sweeping over him, as if he'd plunged headfirst into the sea. The music was still there in his ears, drums and a recorder noise, punctuated with a tambourine and happy shouts, growing louder and louder as the cold did. It was so overwhelming that he could barely hold onto the image of the man, but with a shout of his own he clung onto it.

And then the world seemed to calm.

Charlie sucked in a deep breath, feeling the ground steady beneath him. The air was once again chilled, but it wasn't the soul sucking cold from before. This was an earthly cold, something normal. He looked up quickly, seeing that they were still in the exact same spot as before, having really moved nowhere. The sights were reversed this time though, with the invisible people now fully fleshed out, with the fountains and music in stark existence, and what was real before was now nearly completely faded into the background, disappearing totally with a blink of his eyes.

"Mum!" he gasped, whirling around to see her slumped against the wall, unconscious. Her head leant to the side, and Charlie could see the pulse pounding in her neck and her chest rise and fall with each breath she took. He shook her, trying to wake her up, when something bright and blue flashed in the corner of his eye. He spun towards the blue light on his knees, only to overbalance when the glare hit him fully and send him falling to the ground.

With a soft click the blue light turned off, and Charlie could see a man standing there, mere feet from where they were in the loggia. He was tall and skinny, wrapped in a long coat and wearing trainers, with brown hair and a pair of eyes that looked a lot older than he did. Charlie froze for a brief moment - he knew that outfit. But it couldn't be… "It's okay," he said in a low voice, with an accent similar to his Mum's, "I'm not going to hurt you." He stepped closer, moving slowly.

Without quite knowing how he did it, Charlie stretched out his mind just a little, trying to get a better feeling for things. There was something so familiar here, but his brain was feeling all rattled about from whatever had happened and he couldn't seem to make good sense of things. Just as he made contact with _something_, he saw the man stumble back a step, shock written all over his face. Was it his mind that Charlie was feeling? And how could he feel someone's mind anyway? He never could before. But his dad was telepathic, he remembered Mum saying…

The man shook his head briefly, as if coming to a fast conclusion, and then moved closer. As he knelt down in front of Charlie he could see that his face was paler than average, and that his hands were shaking a bit. "What's your name?" he asked.

Mum had always told him to never talk to strangers, but this man wasn't strange. It was a very odd feeling, but there was something rather familiar there. Almost as if…he couldn't get stuck on that idea though. It wouldn't be good to hope and then to be horribly let down. He didn't think he could take that right now. He should be worrying about his Mum anyway. "Charlie."

"Charlie, that's a good name. I like that name. And is th-this your mother?" the man continued, nodding at his mum's slumped form.

Charlie nodded. "She got hurt. I'm not sure what happened."

To his total surprise, the man leaned past him and cupped Mum's face in his hand, thumb stroking carefully against her cheekbone. "I'm a doctor," he eventually murmured. "If you want, I can help and figure out what's wrong with her."

"Okay." Who else could he turn to? There was no one - everyone seemed to be out to lock them up for scientific study. Not a very good prospect. But this man seemed to care about them, for a reason that, if it was true, was so improbable it was unbelievable, so maybe it was time to take a chance.

"Good." The man turned his head quickly, looking out over the piazza. "Donna! Come here!" he hollered loud enough to make Charlie wince. He then turned back to Mum and oh-so-gently lifted her into his arms, moving to a standing position with her resting against his chest. Charlie stared at them as the arm that was bracing Mum's upper back made sure that her head was leaning comfortably against his shoulder. Something about the two of them together, even if Mum was injured and unconscious, just looked _right._

A woman with rather shocking ginger hair ran up to them. "What is it, Doct—oh my God! What happened?" she said, skidding to a halt in front of them.

"She's been injured," the man nodded down towards his loaded arms. "I'm taking her back to the TARDIS to check her over." He then nodded in Charlie's direction. "That's Charlie, he's coming too. Hold his hand so he doesn't get lost on the way."

"But—" Donna tried to protest, but it was obvious the man wasn't listening. He'd already turned to walk off the loggia, to wherever they were supposed to be going. Donna just shrugged and looked down at the little boy, holding out her hand. "D'you have any idea what's going on here?" she asked. Charlie shook his head no and frowned, grabbing onto the offered hand. "Good, 'cause neither do I!" Donna said, beginning to follow the other pair.

He hadn't quite told the truth to Donna – ideas were brewing in his brain. Little puzzle pieces were fitting together in his head, coming up with the impossible but, for some reason, very right conclusion about the doctor in the brown pinstripes. And didn't Mum always tell him that sometimes, not always, but sometimes, impossible was quite possible, if you knew where to look? As they walked off, the last strains of the music reached Charlie's ears, ending the song with a flourish and a shout.

* * *

To be continued in the fifth and last part... 


	5. Solamen angelorum

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, this is the last part of Salva Nos. Hopefully all loose ends will be wrapped up to your satisfaction, but if you have a question leave it in a review and I'm more than happy to answer it for you. :) If you want to ask anonymously I'll reply in my profile. Speaking of profile, Latin translations can be found in there as well.

Once more, huge amounts of thanks to Paige, who put up with me as I wrote this thing out and was brilliant enough to suggest the Time Lord Biology scene in Chapter Two. And much thanks to good old William Shakespeare, who I - or rather, the Doctor blatantly borrows from for his last line in the story.

Everyone, thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy the end! _  
_

* * *

_Celeste manna paris  
Salva nos, stella maris  
Lux cecis, dux ignaris  
Solamen angelorum_

The mattress and medical supplies had been waiting for them when they got back to the TARDIS, set up on the floor of what the man was calling the console room. He carefully set Mum down, stripped her of her heavy winter coat, and covered her in a thick down blanket. Without stopping for a break, he began to run around the center, setting all sorts of things in motion. Charlie didn't notice this though, he was that worried about his Mum, and all he did was sit by the head of the mattress and watch her slow breathing. To Donna's surprise, Charlie hadn't commented on how the inside was far bigger than the outside appeared. He wasn't going to tell her that he already knew of a ship like that. The man - the Doctor, he mentally corrected himself, wasn't at all surprised by his reaction. He sighed and leaned back against one of the supports, closing his eyes in exhaustion.

"What do you mean I have to go home?" Donna's shrill voice cut into his near-sleep, making him open his eyes blearily.

"It's just temporary," the Doctor insisted, standing on the ramp by the open doors. "Look, hold onto your key; I promise I'll be back for you." His eyes met Charlie's. "This is something I have to handle on my own."

Donna huffed, and only walked out the doors into the yard of her parents' home in London after imparting the threat that if he didn't come back for her, she'd track him down and make him suffer. The Doctor shut the doors behind her, then moved back to the console, setting them in flight again. "We're in the vortex now," he said. "Nothing will be able to find us here."

He moved over to where Mum was lying on her mattress, kneeling down next to her. Again, Charlie watched with a slight bit of awe as he cupped her face in one of his hands, leaning in close just to examine her. "Oh, Rose," he murmured quietly. It should have surprised Charlie by this point that he knew his Mum's first name, but it didn't. There were reasons for everything, he knew, but right now he just wanted to hear them spoken out loud. That way they'd become real, and not just something in his head.

The Doctor slid his glasses on, grabbed something very technical looking from the tray by his side and began to run it over her. Every so often it emitted a low beep. "So, Charlie," he said, never taking his eyes off of Mum, "how old are you?"

"Five. How old are you?"

The Doctor looked up at him, a wide and sudden grin spreading across his face. "A lot older than that. Are you in school yet?"

Charlie shrugged. "I was, but I had to be pulled out. Kept correcting the other kids, got bored a lot, then got in trouble for cutting my hair in the middle of class."

"Eh, that's just the perils of being smarter than them. You'll learn to handle it." Actually, Charlie felt that it wouldn't even matter at this point. He wasn't going to see that group ever again. The Doctor sat upright, snapping the little object shut and placing it back in the box. "Your mum will be fine. A little bit of unconsciousness, but mostly exhaustion. Travelling through time and space – or to a parallel world – without any sort of device will do that to you." This time he looked right at Charlie. "So how did you get here?" he asked, voice calm as he seemed to try to keep control.

Charlie pulled his knees up, hugging them close as the Doctor moved around the mattress to sit next to him. "There were these people who wanted to hurt Mum. 'Cause she'd been into space, she said. And they didn't even know about me. But they were in our flat. So we had to run away."

"That still doesn't explain how you were able to get into a parallel universe," The Doctor said softly, bracing his back against the support as well and sitting cross-legged.

"We were going to the train station, try and get to Munchen. But things started to get…fuzzy." He made a strange motion with his hands, as if he were stacking something. "One group of people, then another, right on top of each other." Charlie looked up at the Doctor. "I just wanted us to be safe. An' when we were stopped by the church, I could feel you there, in my head."

He wrinkled his brow, obviously puzzled. "And you reached out, to try and contact me...?"

Charlie squeezed his eyes shut for a brief moment. It was time. Funnily enough, he could feel the TARDIS in the back of his head, offering quiet encouragement and telling him that all would be fine (and whispering that the Doctor could be a bit of a coward at times, so it was up to him now). "Mum always said that you saved her, thought you could do it again. An' you're Dad, you're supposed to save us. So I tried to reach you." His voice trailed off, and he stared at the glowing column in the centre of the console. The Doctor's hand dropped down on his shoulder and squeezed. "Didn't know it was you I was feeling until I saw you there by the church."

"I could say the same. I'd been feeling this sort of niggling little sensation there in the back of my head, but I couldn't place it until I saw you and Rose-your mum-there tonight," the Doctor said, hand still holding onto Charlie's shoulder.

"She wanted to tell you about me, but she was scared. She couldn't tell anyone else either, 'cause they were after her," Charlie said, finally daring to look up at his face. To his surprise the Doctor wasn't at all mad or angry, but just slightly smiling as he looked down at him.

"When you're a parent, it's never just about you any more. Well, maybe it is for some bad parents out there, a few names come to mind but you're probably too young to know who they are. In any case, when you're a parent, you do what's best for your child. If that meant her keeping you safe and me not knowing about you…I can live with that." The hand slipped down and his arm wrapped itself around Charlie's shoulders. Charlie leaned into his side, taking comfort wherever he could get it.

"Thank you for saving us," he murmured, feeling tired once more. It had been an incredibly long day, and they had traveled far further than they'd ever imagined.

The Doctor shook his head, making Charlie look back up at him as he felt the movement through the Doctor's body. "We save each other. Maybe I didn't tell your mum enough, but she saved me just as many times, maybe more. That's just the way we do it." He winked at Charlie and gave him a quick grin. "Stick around and you'll see."

Charlie had planned to say something in return, but a large yawn overtook him. "Okay, that's it," the Doctor said, uncrossing his legs. "Time for all boys who crossed the void today to get some rest." He grabbed Charlie by the waist and laid him carefully on the mattress next to Mum.

He shook his head, fighting against the tiredness even though the mattress was quite comfy and the blanket that was being placed over him was thick and warm. "Can't go to sleep yet; gotta wait up for Santa."

"Santa? Oh, right, it's Christmas!" the Doctor said as if surprised to hear the date (he hasn't the slightest clue, the TARDIS thought into Charlie's head, making him bite back a giggle). He gave what looked like a desperate glance towards the ceiling. "Uh, well, Charlie, you see—" His ramblings were cut off by the blanket covered pile beside them shifting a bit, making Charlie sit bolt upright and the Doctor scramble over to the other side of the mattress.

As he stared down at his mum's face, she opened her eyes slowly. A few blinks later her vision had cleared, and she took his face between her hands. "Charlie?" she asked. "Where are we?"

"It's okay, Mum, we're safe," he said, yawning at the end of his statement. He pulled back slightly, letting her get a glimpse of their location. When her eyes grew wide as dinner plates he knew she recognized where they were.

"Oh my God," she breathed, pushing herself upright. Then suddenly her breath caught in her throat, and Charlie glanced behind him to see the Doctor sitting there on the mattress, calm as anything but with a gleam in his eyes.

"Hello, Rose," he said, with a smile that could have lit up half of central London.

"Hi," Mum said back, a little bit of a gasp in her voice.

"We've got a lot to talk about, don't we?" The Doctor said to her.

"Yeah, we do," Mum replied. "But it'll be worth it."

"You lied to me," he said, with a pointed glance at Charlie.

Mum pulled Charlie to sit between her legs, rubbing her hands up and down his arms. Charlie leaned back, feeling rather warm and comfortable there. The TARDIS hummed soothingly inside his head, making him feel welcome as well. "I lied to everyone," Mum said. "I did what I had to do to keep our son safe."

"The things we do for the ones we love," the Doctor murmured. "Rip open the heart of my poor ship with a recovery lorry…"

"Dangle from a transmitter tower to save the life of one silly human girl..."

"I've missed you quite a lot, you know."

"Same here. At least I had Charlie to help get me through it."

Charlie wanted to listen to their conversation so badly, but he couldn't fight the exhaustion anymore. He drifted off to sleep, slumping back against Mum's stomach.

His dreams weren't pleasant. He dreamt of the shivering cold of the void they had passed through, of being so terrified, and of what could have followed them through. They were things that no child, not even a half Time Lord child, should even consider thinking about, but they took up residence in his subconscious and it was hard to escape them in sleep.

He awoke with a gasp, eyes darting blindly around the console room, not quite seeing it. But then, then, he felt the Doct – no, his Dad's cool palm on his forehead, brushing back his hair. Charlie could feel his mind reaching out for his own, sending waves of comfort into it and making him breathe a bit easier. And Mum was still at his back, her arms wrapped around him holding him tight, just like she always did. "It's okay, love; it's just a dream," she murmured, rocking him just slightly. She hummed softly, a few bars of a random song, calming him even further and making him snuggle back into her arms once more. Between the two of them he felt safe, like nothing in those dreams could even touch him.

On the edge of consciousness once more, he heard the Doctor say in a low voice, "'I do love nothing in the universes so well as you: is not that strange?'"

Just before he dropped back to sleep, he felt Mum giggle beneath him, and heard her whispered reply. "Quite right too."

_Salva nos, stella maris  
Et regina celorum_

* * *

Thus ends Salva Nos. I may revisit this universe at some point in the future, however, so keep an eye out or put me on alert if you're interested. Thanks so much for reading! 


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